


She Was Elena Gilbert

by hithelleth



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Abduction, Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dubious Consent, F/M, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 10:15:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/951891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hithelleth/pseuds/hithelleth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU-ish. Klaus leaves Mystic Falls at the end of 3 x 05 and takes Elena with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Was Elena Gilbert

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angelette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelette/gifts).



> Because I felt like writing dark things and you like those. 
> 
> For those who might not: this is NOT a happy story: it contains kidnapping, manipulation, dubious consent, and abuse, so don’t read if you can’t deal with that. 
> 
> Obviously, I don’t own _The Vampire Diaries_. No copyright infringement intended.

_Once upon a time she was Elena Gilbert, a high-school cheerleader, the girl all girls wanted to be and all boys wanted to date. She was reckless and shallow and took having the world placed at her feet for granted. She was also deep and thoughtful, transposing the nuances of her soul into the lines in her journal._

_Once, in another life, she was Elena Gilbert, daughter of Grayson and Miranda, sister to Jeremy, the luckiest girl in the world, who survived a terrible accident against all the odds. She was wrenched from the cruel waters under The Wickery Bridge although it would have been better for everyone if she hadn't been._

_A lifetime ago, she was Elena Gilbert; a girl loved by two vampire brothers; a friend to a witch, a vampire and a werewolf; a fighter and a survivor, a winner amidst loss._

_At some point Elena Gilbert was a daughter of John and Isobel, a Petrova doppelganger, whose life was sacrificed – and willingly so – at the hands of a monster, so the people she loved would get to live safely and happily._

_Once, at some now undeterminable time when there was still hope and possibility, Elena Gilbert was a miracle, the girl who came back from the dead._

***

Everything is hazy, the walls and the floor Jell-O-like surfaces dancing around her.

The only steady point is the monster who takes her into his arms.

The motion makes her surroundings blur and sway. Her stomach turns.

She snuggles closer to him as he carries her, shutting her eyes, her face buried into his shoulder to keep the queasiness at bay.

A thought passes her mind that this isn’t right, that she should fight, run. Only that she feels too tired, too weak. Even her arm won’t grip his shoulders more tightly, as she would want – although she doesn’t have to, because he is strong and he doesn’t waver for a second and she knows she is safe with him despite the alarm in the back of her head that says the opposite.

He tells her she has to be quiet and rest, so he can take her somewhere where he will take care of her.

Her mind tries to resist for a millisecond as he locks his eyes with hers, before giving up under the pressure of compulsion.

***

Klaus does take care of her.

He has brought her to this house, hasn’t he? It’s huge, the biggest she has ever been to – a castle, actually. He tells her its name but she forgets it instantly, her brain refusing to work properly.

The name doesn’t matter anyway.

The place is his, of course. Sometimes she thinks everything is his, the whole world.

So is she.

Two thoughts battle in her mind sometimes – the one trying to wrench free, resenting being someone’s property, and the other one which is a little proud that it is her who has made it possible for him.

***

Klaus keeps his promise: she is safe here and no one bothers her.

She is exhausted all the time.

She would be helpless if she had to take care of herself. It is good she doesn’t have to.

The maids clean and take care of everything, and the cook prepares most delicious meals.

Klaus meticulously watches that she eats enough even when she doesn’t feel like it and makes sure she gets all the vitamins to stay healthy.

She has to keep her blood good, the blood he takes at regular intervals, always politely thanking her and leaving her to rest all day in the living room with the view on the gardens, a maid disturbing her only when it is meal time, the food especially tasty and strong on those days.

He never drinks from her, because her blood is too precious for that. She is sort of flattered, reading the gleam of hunger in his eyes and knowing he is denying himself what he wants.

He doesn’t give her his blood, either, because her blood has to stay pure and because accidents happen and _“we wouldn’t want that, would we?”_ No, of course not.

After the first few times he no longer compels her.

She has no place to go, no trick to pull, and even if she had, she is not strong enough.

***

Although she rarely explicitly expresses her wishes, he guesses them well enough and gives her everything he thinks she might want: books, clothes, any item she might desire.

He calls her the lady of the castle and tells her it is just as much hers as it is his, and she is not even sure whether he is joking or not.

He shows her around the place by and by and lets her to explore it freely when she feels well enough.

She can walk outside in the gardens and in the park whenever she feels like it, as well. There is nothing miles and miles around the estate, anyway.

However, Elena doesn’t even think of running.

He would always find her, she knows that. And then there would be blood and death everywhere all over again.

She prefers staying here, left alone and peaceful amidst so much beauty. What more could she want?

(She used to want more than this. She just can’t recall what it was.)

***

Elena forgets to count the time, no longer paying attention to the calendar on the wall or the dates in her journal – Klaus has got it for her, too, although she hardly ever uses it – or in the newspapers.

She is faintly aware of the changes in the weather: the sunny days become less frequent; the rain sings a monotonous lullaby; the trees in the garden glow in a kaleidoscope of colours before shedding the leaves; the frost appears on the grass; a white blanket of snow covers everything, looking as soft as cashmere; and then the dew drops on young grass, shining like diamonds in the sun.

Klaus brings a guest to entertain her every now and then, not always the same but always a boy with blond hair and grey eyes and a wide smile and strong shoulders. She knows she is supposed to be reminded of someone. She doesn’t want to think of whom.

They dine in the sun room with the light of setting sun and candles. The wine makes her dizzy and her whole body relaxes and her skin prickles when bared to the air as she is laid on silk sheets in her room. At least she thinks it is her room, because it is dark and her brain refuses to think and her limbs won’t obey her the way she wants – unsure which way that is: to ward off the young man’s touches or to encourage them.

***

Klaus stops taking her blood because it would be bad for the babies.

The babies make her sick and when she stops being sick, her belly grows and she loses herself in that wonder for the short precious time she has before the babies rip her apart and leave her.

She holds them in her arms once – only once, her breath stopping as she looks at them: wrinkled and bloody with chestnut curls slicked back on the tiny heads – a boy with the eyes of stormy sky, screaming at the top of his lungs; and a girl who stretches her little arms, the dark orbs of her yet unseeing eyes staring at the ceiling as she pulls a face and, Elena could swear, giggles.  

They take the babies away. Elena’s breasts swell and ache and she cries into the silence that should be filled with their sounds: breathing, crying, and babbling.

It is better for the babies. Elena knows that the babies are not safe with them. They are better off elsewhere – Klaus doesn’t tell her where, but he tells her they are safe and healthy and they have everything they need, and shows her a picture once or twice, although she would believe him without that.

All the same, she can’t stop the sadness overwhelming her.

Klaus stays with her then, sits with her in front of the fire, walks with her through the gardens in blossom, tells her stories of old times and eventually comforts her sadness enough to retreat – no, not really retreat, just become bearable, as have all her sorrows before.  

***

There are bruises on her skin. Elena ghosts over them with the tips of her fingers, the dull pain reminding her of the rush of blood in her ears and stars exploding in her eyes and the wet warmth inside her spreading all over her body and making her feel safe and content and almost-loved.

She remembers him kissing the still fresh bruises as if he cherished her – or, at least, cherished the marks he left on her.

***

_He will kill her in the end._

_Sooner or later he will grow tired of her or notice she is getting old and simply take all of her blood. Or, he will give in to his want and drain her, but this time without a comeback. Maybe he won’t even bother and he will just snap her neck. Or it will happen_ ‘by accident’ _._

_A part of her says she should not accept it. She doesn’t listen to that part._

_Elena doesn’t mind dying. Not by his hand, no._

_She would ask him to promise her that – that it will be him, only he wouldn’t do it then, just out of spite._

_However, she doesn’t have to ask._

_He_ will _kill her in the end._

_Just not yet._

_Not before he makes her laugh with his offbeat sense of humour one more time, his eyes sparking like sunrays on the ocean waves. Not before he takes one more walk with her in the twilight so she can get drunk on the smell of roses and freshly cut grass and the warmth of his hand around hers. Not before he holds her close in front of the fireplace and kisses her one last time._

~FIN~

**Author's Note:**

> I’m a terrible person. I’m sorry. Poor Elena. What do you think? Good? Bad? Comments are always welcome. 
> 
> Unbeta’d, so feel free to tell me if you saw something.


End file.
